Shame
by ArentYouSophiaLoren-8887
Summary: There aren't a whole lot of things that shame Mark Fitzgerald, but this is one thing that does, even though he'd never admit it. Oneshot.


**Author's Note: I don't own Degrassi, but I do own Megan, so don't use her. **

Even if he were hard-pressed, Fitz would never outright say that he liked his sister. What was there to like? She was noisy; she cried all the time, day and night, and always threw a fit when she didn't get her way. She still wore diapers, and there were times when his mother would leave him with her while she ran errands that she crapped herself and ran around smelling like shit for hours, because God knows _he_ wasn't going to change her. No, that was a parent's job, and since his mom was out and Megan's deadbeat asshole of a father had been gone since before she was even born, she would just have to sit tight until his mom got home. The wait, of course, only made Megan cry more (which Fitz couldn't blame her for) but the alternative was too gross for him to even consider, so most of the time he would just stick her in the Pack-n-Play and go in his room, shutting the door and listening to music to drown out her screams. Babies were just annoying, and he never wanted anything to do with them. After all, he didn't _ask_ for a baby half-sister.

Whenever she crawled into his lap when he was trying to watch TV, he pushed her off. Whenever she managed to wander into his bedroom if he somehow forgot to lock the door, he would push her out and slam the door behind her. When she started to cry, he would plug in his earbuds or crank up the TV to full volume.

Basically, he tried to pretend like she didn't exist, except when he yelled at her to be quiet, which usually was met with louder screaming.

He was never really ashamed of the way he treated her. Why should he be? It wasn't like _he _was Megan's parent. And he wasn't, like, _abusing_ her or anything. He just didn't see why he should have to care about taking care of smelly, yowling little brat like Megan.

Except, sometimes, she wasn't a total pain in the ass. There were times when she smiled at him- actually smiled, full and wide, with no sarcasm or fear in her expression when she saw him. She would just start laughing for no reason, and it was a pretty cool sound, like bubbles popping. And sometimes, if he made a face at her- stuck out his tongue or crossed his eyes or even raised his eyebrows slightly in her direction- she'd collapse laughing like it was the funniest thing in the whole freaking world. And he really liked that, knowing that he could make somebody that happy without anything like booze or weed or sex. He just made someone happy by being himself.

Hell, Megan even laughed in her _sleep_. He heard her do it once, when he was watching TV on the couch and she fell asleep next to him. He wanted to push her off or put her in the playpen or something so she wouldn't bug him, but he didn't want to wake her up and listen to her scream, so he just left her there beside him. And suddenly, for no reason at all, she just burst into soft little giggles, a tiny sound that made him mute the TV and stare at the sleeping baby beside him like he'd never seen anything like it in his life. Had he ever laughed in his sleep before like she did? He can't remember.

But god, he'd give anything if he could be that way now. Totally innocent and unaware of what a sick joke life could be, just thinking the stupidest shit was somehow hilarious, and being so happy all the time that you even laughed when you were fast asleep.

He was never ashamed of the way that he treated his sister; he was always jealous of her.

But if there is one thing that shames Mark Fitzgerald- and there aren't a whole lot of things that really do, if he's being honest- it's this moment, right here:

The moment that comes every Sunday morning at precisely 11:00 AM, when some faceless CO comes to his door and slides open the cell to lead him down the hallway to a part of the jail no bigger than a broom closet. Inside, a stool faces a Plexiglas window and a telephone receiver is mounted on the wall.

And on the other side of that Plexiglas: his mom and Megan.

His mother is usually crying, or attempting not to and trying to be cheerful, which in Fitz's opinion is even worse. Megan, though, is usually all smiles, jabbering on into the phone like her big brother isn't talking to her from inside a fucking _prison_, like a goddam CO isn't standing right behind him, monitoring his movements, like he's some exhibit at the zoo.

He wishes that he could talk to her- _really_ talk to her, as in telling her the things that he can't share with anyone else inside this motherfucking shithole of a hell he's been locked away in, like how scared he is and how he'd kick someone's ass before he ever admitted it. But Megan's only a baby; she doesn't understand, any more than Fitz could probably put into words.

So he just waves to her, tries to smile even though it makes his face feel like it's cracking apart, and makes a silly face or two because he likes hearing her giggle. He wishes he could bring a freaking cassette player into the stupid booth, so he could tape her giggles and keep them in his cell underneath his pillow at night, listening to them to make him feel like he's at home- then maybe he'd actually get some sleep at night.

His mother chatters on like Megan, but her words are actually intelligible- not just gurgles and mismatched syllables and shrieks- so he has to sit there and nod his head every so often and pretend like he's listening to her talk about whatever inane shit she manages to spew at him every weekend. He could really care less about what she has to say, but instead focuses on watching her mouth move and just lets her voice wash over him like a hot shower, soothing him. If any of his old gang knew that he felt this way, he'd officially get his ass kicked and be labeled a pussy for the rest of his life- so long, reputation- but Fitz can't help it: he really, really misses his mother.

Before every visit ends, his mother tells him that she loves him (another thing that he will die before admitting how much he really wants to hear) and presses her lips to the receiver, giving him a kiss through the phone- impossibly corny, but it always brings tears to her eyes, and that always makes him feel like shit all over again. Then she lifts Megan up to the glass and lets her put her tiny palm up against it, so that he can do the same. Sometimes, he'll stick out his tongue and cross his eyes, so that she'll burst into a huge grin at his ridiculous face, and that will officially be the last image he has of them- one that he tries to keep fresh in his mind during every single moment here.

He always figured that he'd just end up being some deadbeat who did nothing with his life. But just for once, he wanted somebody to think that he was worth more than that. For now, Megan was just a dumb baby who didn't know any better, but one day, she would, and just like everyone else, he'd just end up disappointing her.

To his mother he was no longer the perfect son, and to his sister, he would no longer be the big brother who made her smile.

And that really sucked.


End file.
